


underneath the stars we came alive (and singing to the sky just felt right)

by you_niverse



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Blink and you'll miss it, But it's really brief, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Late Night Drives, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mushy Feelings, soft soft soft, they go to a seven eleven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_niverse/pseuds/you_niverse
Summary: “I think I’m in love with you,” he says breathlessly when he pulls away, and what should be a realisation sounds like something he’s known for a long time.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	underneath the stars we came alive (and singing to the sky just felt right)

**Author's Note:**

> Soft soft soft Malum. You need that, sometimes.  
> Sorry to all my friends who had to listen to me crying about the way they look at each other and thank you to anyone willing to read this. It was 2am and I was emotional. That's the only excuse for this creation.
> 
> Title from "Good Times" by All Time Low, because apparently they have very title-able song lyrics and perhaps I'm a little bit in love with them.
> 
> Needless to say, please do not repost without permission, thank you :)

Calum’s phone is vibrating on his bedside table. The buzz is clearly audible against the wooden surface, impossible to ignore, even if he presses his face into the pillow. He knew he should’ve muted it. He extents his arm to his right where he estimates the table to be, searches around for a few seconds and groans when he can’t find it. The phone is still buzzing. Whoever is calling, it must be urgent. Calum is forced to open his eyes, grabs his phone and squints at the brightness of the screen. Michael. He should’ve known it.

“Hullo?” he yawns into the phone, the fabric of his pillow slightly muffling his voice.

“Oh, are you sleeping?”

“Well, not anymore, dickhead,” Calum huffs, but he can’t help but smile a little at the sound of Michael’s voice. He’s whipped like that.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Michael responds, and seems genuinely apologetic.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go grab a snack with me.”

“A snack?” Calum repeats incredulously.

“Mike, it’s like 3AM.”

He squints at his screen again, and, well, maybe it’s not quite 3AM yet; but it sure feels like it.

“No, it’s not. It’s barely past midnight. Didn’t think you’d be asleep already.”

“Well, I’m trying to maintain a healthy sleep schedule here, as opposed to some others.”

Michael makes an indistinct noise at that, because he too, is well aware that staying up until the early hours of morning to play games or write isn’t exactly healthy.

“It’s not my fault I’m more creative at night,” he says defensively.

“So, are you coming or what?”

And Calum knows that no was never really an option. As if Calum could ever say no to Michael, even if it meant sacrificing two hours of sleep for him. Michael probably knows that too.

“You’re picking me up. Be down in 10,” he grumbles into the phone and smiles at the small ‘yesss’ at the other end of the line. He hangs up after that and hisses at the cold floor beneath his feet. He pulls on a big hoodie and decides that sweats must do, puts on a pair of socks and avoids looking in the mirror. It’s just Michael, he doesn’t have to look good. Besides, there’s only few people out at this hour anyway. He slips into a pair of trainers, grabs wallet, phone and keys and makes his way down to wait for Michael at the gate.

“You look cute,” Michael grins when Calum climbs into the passenger seat mere minutes later.

“Fuck off and start the car,” the younger retorts in order to surpress commenting on just how cuddly Michael looks in his hoodie.

Silence engulfs them for a few minutes, only the sound of the engine serving as background noise. Michael is focused on the road ahead and Calum is staring out of the window mindlessly, the streetlights outside a blur of orange and yellow lights. Both of them are just basking in the comfort of each other’s company. Calum breaks the silence after a while.

“So, why are you carving snacks at 12:46?”

“Dunno. Was writing. Needed to get out of my head for a while,” Michael mumbles as he turns into the parking lot of a seven-eleven, comes to a halt and turns off the engine. They’re left in silence. Michael is fiddling the car keys nervously and Calum resists the urge to reach for his hand to calm him down. They used to do that a lot when they were younger, holding hands as a silent reassurance. Calum sort of misses the feeling of Michael’s fingers entangled with his. He’s ripped out of his thoughts when the older quietly clears his throat.

“Do you ever write and like, you write down things that you didn’t know you were feeling?”

Calum nods. He just nods because he gets it, and because he knows Michael gets that he gets it. They have something they call the _‘don’t ask policy’_ when they’re writing in the studio because it makes things easier, the progress faster and the vulnerability a bit less intimidating. So Calum is happy when Michael shares thoughts with him, as he has the tendency to surpress his emotions until they spill over.

“Some days I’m scared to open my notebook because I’m afraid of the honesty of my own words,” Michael adds. He stares ahead at nothing particular thoughtfully, then turns his upper body to Calum.

“Thanks for coming,” he smiles softly.

“Anytime,” Calum says as he unfastens his seatbelt, opens the car door and slips out of the vehicle. He’s surprised at how true that is. He’d go for a snack at 1AM with Michael anytime, if it meant that the blond got out of his head.

They walk across the empty parking lot in sync and enter the convenience store through the automatic doors. They seem to be the only ones apart from the cashier, who gives them a curt nod and a questioning glance, as if to say ‘ _what are you doing in a seven-eleven at 1AM_?’ ‘ _None of your business_ ’ Calum thinks as he walks through the isles of snacks and instant food packages. Michael’s already scurried off to somewhere to find the snacks he’s craving. Now that he’s here anyway, Calum decides to get a few groceries he would’ve had to buy soon. He finds Michael in the snack section after gathering milk, frozen pizza and cereal.

He sneaks up behind the blond and hooks his chin over his shoulder. Michael shudders lightly at the contact.

“Whatcha frowning at?”

“Cheetos,” Michael holds up the bag in his right hand and musters it again.

“Or Tortilla chips?”

“Ohhh, that’s a serious one,” Calum nods deliberately and examines the two packages critically. He wrinkles his forehead and pretends to think hard.

“You should definitely go for Doritos.”

“Oh fuck you,” Michael laughs, but goes to grab the Doritos anyway, which makes Calum equally smug and fond.

They pick up another pack of gummy bears, the kind that sticks to Calum’s teeth and makes Ashton frown disapprovingly before opening a package of unsalted nuts out of spite. But Ashton’s not here, so they can eat all the sticky gummies in the world.

The air is crisp when they step out of the store, the wind ruffling their hair and making the plastic bags crinkle. It’s only after a few metres that Calum notices Michael’s figure has disappeared from next to him. He turns around to find him squinting up at the night sky. It’s deep blue, a few stars visible despite the amount light LA must radiate. Calum walks back to Michael and stares up as well. The latter is humming something under his breath, something that sounds suspiciously like 'A Daydream Away', so Calum hums along for a second and glances at Michael. Somehow his features manage to look soft illuminated by the harsh streetlight.

“The stars are beautiful. But,” Michael suddenly says and Calum has a feeling he knows where it’s going.

“Oh no,” he interrupts and giggles.

“Don’t you dare pull that line on me n-mhhh.”

He’s silenced by Michael’s finger against his lips, and there’s a mischievous smirk adorning the blond’s face.

“No, let me finish. The stars are beautiful tonight. But,” and Calum can see Michael smirking at him from the corner of his eye.

“They’re not as beautiful as Alex Gaskarth.”

And, well, Calum can’t argue with that.

“You’re ridiculous. But you’re also not wrong. He is one beautiful human specimen.”

Michael grins at him triumphantly, and Calum thinks he would be content staring at that squinty grin for the rest of his life. Instead, he decides to turn that grin into a smile. He drops his bag of groceries and takes Michael’s to set it on the floor, then he grabs both of his pale hands in his. They make a nice contrast like that, Michael’s pale complexion and Calum’s soft brown one. He’s always liked how they look together.

“What are you doing?” Michael asks confusedly, but Calum ignores the question in favour of pulling him away from the groceries on the ground and just starts spinning them.

The perplexity is written clearly on Michael’s face.

“Come on,” Calum encourages and speeds up.

“What the fuck,” Michael says, but he doesn’t seem to hate it, if the face-splitting smile is anything to go by. They’re extending their arms, grinning at each other like the fools they are. They’re spinning and the sky is spinning and the entire world is spinning. And in midst of the blur there’s Michael, laughing delightedly with excitement sparkling in his green eyes. In a way, Calum thinks, this is what his life feels like. It’s a constant moving, chaotic mess, between airports and concert halls, emotional writing sessions and lonely hotel rooms. But Michael, Michael is a grounding presence to him, a consistent part of his heart since he can remember. He’s always been there, right next to Calum as they uploaded their first cover as a band, signed their first ever contract, released their debut album, won their first award. He’s always been there.

And it only seems natural when he leans forward and presses his lips to Michael’s, teeth clashing with the way they’re both smiling. It’s everything a first kiss should be, but at the same time it feels nothing like a first kiss. It’s oddly familiar, it feels like coming home, it feels like being intertwined with Michael the way he’s always been.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says breathlessly when he pulls away, and what should be a realisation sounds like something he’s known for a long time. Michael hesitates, and that’s only fair, Calum supposes. He didn’t even know until a moment ago.

“Does that mean I’m in love with you too?” Michael asks and Calum chuckles easily.

“I don’t know, I’m asking you.”

They’re standing now, and Michael looks like he’s deep in thought, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows the way it always does when he’s concentrating.

“I know that I feel just as strongly about you as you feel about me,” he says after a moment.

“I know that you don’t feel more for me than I do for you. So does that mean I’m in love with you? …In love with you,” Michael says, as if he’s testing if he likes the sound of that rolling off his tongue. Apparently he does, because the face-splitting smile is back on his face and Calum thinks he’s glowing with it.

“I think I’m in love with you too,” he whispers into the space between them, and then he’s leaning forward and capturing Calum’s lips in a much softer kiss, one that feels too gentle to be exchanged in an empty parking lot.

They should probably talk about this. They should probably talk about what this means for them, and if it changes anything in their dynamic, which most likely won’t end up happening. This could be the beginning of something big and exciting. First kisses are always the beginning of something, in all the romantic movies Calum has ever watched. But this doesn’t feel like a beginning. It feels like something their relationship just evolved into naturally, the middle of something that has started long ago and will continue for a long time. It still feels like CalumandMichael, nothing more and nothing less. They should probably do something about that mutual feeling. Instead, they tumble down onto the ground, tangled up in each other, grinning and staring at each other and almost crushing Michael’s bag of Doritos.

It’s 1am and Calum is sharing Doritos with Michael, in an empty parking lot of a seven-eleven under the endless night sky, and there’s no place he’d rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope it made you feel something lmao.  
> Constructive criticism and pointing out grammar mistakes is welcome.  
> Stay safe y'all


End file.
